“Woman,” she exclaims, stamping her feet angrily.“Women don’t have tantrums,” her father informs her.“Sorry Daddy,” she responds sincere...y. Though rebellious, it never focuses on her parents, whom she respects, actually idolizing her father, whom she learned from since she can remember, nurtured from his knowledge as much as from her mother’s teat. No, it has a more political focus, the hatred of the enslaved masses, servants treated as chattel, for which she had been born, even if her father. Cylvia got up, and as a long-time and trusted friend of the Carmel family, made herself and Lonnie another drink. She liberally laced Lonnie's with scotch, and added some vodka for good measure. What she had in store for Mrs. Carmel was going to take all the help she could get, and having her friend drunk would "grease the runway," to use a phrase of her father's.Then the phone rang, and Tamera answered it. She attentively listened to Vic tell her what he was planning to do with his cock to her. I subtly stroked his cock to keep it hard as we waited, asking him if he likes anal and mentioning I like it. Taking a dominant side he insisted on fucking my ass since i liked it so much saying how much of a good girl iv been. As soon as we knew we were alone again he bent me over leaning against a wall. I kept my legs together, arching my ass to not expose anything and so he can get it in deeper. He rolled a condom on and I slipped out a packet of lube from my stockings, pulled my panties. Alan tried again to argue but Emma insisted he take his trousers off instead of just rolling the legs of them up under the skirt. It took about another ten minutes of arguing before she managed to convince Alan that Scottish men wore nothing under their kilts and thathe should remove his underpants.Soon Alan was pretending to rob a bank (the spare bedroom) in his frilly blouse and short, pleated skirt. It was lucky he didn't look in a mirror as he would have been horrified by how girlish he.